


Different Views Lead to Different Paths

by FrostStar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostStar/pseuds/FrostStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry viewed the Dursley's abuse differently? What if he wanted to embrace what they hated?<br/>This is how I think Harry should've viewed his life and how the littlest difference changes the entire outcome.<br/>Warning: Dursely's are much more violence happy.(more abuse for Harry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter laid on his cot, staring blankly up at the ceiling, thinking. He was thinking about the latest event that had invited his uncles wrath. He was seven at the moment and had just realized that he didn't deserve the treatment his _family_ doled out to him. Well, he hadn't just realized, he'd slowly realized it this past week, it had just been further cemented today. He had decided to test his realization by doing _every single little thing_ they asked of him to _perfection_. He worked far better when he tuned everything else but the task at hand, and he had avoided anything that would have set anyone of them off, and he was still blamed when something went wrong! It wasn't even remotely related to him! His hands clenched into fists as he remembered.

He had just finished setting the table for dinner when Vernon, he refused to call him uncle, waddled through the door and snapped his gaze to him. Once Harry registered his anger, he blanked his face, had his arms hang limply at his side, and pushed his emotions away as he turned towards him. Vernon's moustache quivered as his face became blotchy and he started to screech. "You lousy, worthless Freak!" Spittle came flying out and it took quite a bit of will power to not gag. He knew to just tune the rest of Vernon's rant out by this point, though he should just tune it out from the beginning, he still had a small bit of hope he would have something competent to say. After about five minutes of wanting Vernon noticed he wasn't listening and roughly grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him while continuing his rant, his face getting more purple. He grew more furious the longer he got no response from Harry and became more physical. He eventually threw Harry away and onto the floor where he continued to let out his anger on Harry. He stopped about a half hour later due to being too tired to continue. He then left while saying, "Make sure you get this cleaned up before dinner, and your in your cupboard after you've finished cooking and setting the table."

He got up and finished setting the table, then he scrubbed the floors with bleach. As he was cleaning he heard Vernon complaining loudly to, whom he presumed to be Petunia, about how he was passed over for a promotion he wanted and that's what he decides to blame on Harry. Before he would've felt resigned and ashamed, but now, after figuring out this treatment of him was wrong, he felt angry and sick. He quickly finished cleaning and set the food on the table before going to his cupboard. 

As he lay in his cupboard he thought of all the punishments he had gotten over the years and the causes to said punishments. Then, he truly thought he had deserved them, now though, he knew better. They just wanted to hurt him, wanted to make him feel how much they hated him, they took pleasure in it. He knew he was different, he made strange things happen all the time, but that did not make him deserve this treatment they heaped onto him. He was not the freak, they were. They were the freaks, how could one deliberately hurt their own family, a child they have had nearly his whole life? He grew more and more furious the more he thought on it.

He didn't consider them family, hadn't since he was four and thrown into the shards of glass he had accidentally broke when cleaning the kitchen. He had then been forced to clean it up and continue washing the dishes without tending to the cuts and glass littering his body. They were nothing to him, and he wanted them to suffer like he has had to and still has to. He wants them to feel ten times the pain he has thus far felt.

He was so deep in his vengeful thoughts, that he didn't notice the things inside the cupboard starting to shake, shaking more violently as his anger mounted ever higher. He was snapped out of his thoughts as the cot collapsed from the shaking. The shock from hitting the ground overrode his anger and everything stopped shaking. But not before he noticed it. It seemed to have only happened in the cupboard as Vernon wasn't trying to barge his way in. He had caused this. This was the strangeness his _family_ seemed to fear. He also noticed it made him better, there was no more pain. He wanted to control it, to make it happen again. He furrowed his brows as he thought on how to recreate this power. It just seemed to happen when he was overly emotional. He did it before, different things, like turning his teachers hair blue. He had an idea and looked over at his broken army men and concentrated on them shaking. He didn't want to start out big just to be disappointed. He tried to recreate the feelings from when this strangeness happens. He concentrated for nearly ten minutes before he started to grow desperate. He _needed_ them to shake, as the desperation filled him, he became aware of another sensation. It was warm and familiar and started to well up inside him, right before it became unbearable, it vanished. That's when he noticed them wobble slightly and fall over. He finally relaxed and started gasping for air. He was sweating profusely, that took a lot out of him. It seemed accidental was far easier than doing it deliberately. But it worked and that's all that mattered. He moved over to his collapsible got and fixed it before flopping down on it to think. That strange feeling was the power he had, and he needed to learn to control it. He would have to keep a journal or something to track his progress, notes, and theories.

A wide maniacal grin spread slowly across his face as he suddenly thought of the Dursely's. He would finally be able to repay them the suffering they heaped upon him. He nearly laughed when he imagined their reactions to his power. Once he was able to control this power, he would be able to show them just who the superior one was, who the freaks really were. He would still have to endure their treatment as he was only aware of this power, and he needed complete control before he stood up to them. Though, the worse the treatment the more fun he would have once he decided to teach them a lesson or two. He vowed that by this time next year, he _would_ have them cowering at his feet. Or absolutely terrified in general, they just had to know who was in charge.

He thought on the first steps he would need to cover before actually learning how to control this power. He would need more information on it first, so he would know how to start controlling it. He knew most information would be false, but he would need a foundation to start on then build it on his own knowledge. He would have to go to the library. He would be able to do that when he went grocery shopping, he shopped often enough that he wouldn't have to worry about late books. He went grocery shopping twice a week, and bought enough to feed an average family of six each time, though he rarely ate any of it. It would be only too easy to check out books while he was grocery shopping as when he came home they were too engrossed in the food to really notice him. He grinned again at the thought of growing powerful right under their ignorant noses and using it against them when they least expected it. He drifted off to sleep with a smile as wild fantasies played through his mind about the Dursely's begging him for mercy, mercy that he would never give.


	2. Chapter 2

"Boy! Get yourself in the kitchen!" Petunia screeched while banging on Harry's cupboard door. Harry merely stood up with a sigh. He was only able to dredge up that awesome feeling five minutes before. He went to the kitchen and got all the ingredients for their breakfast. He made pancakes, omelets and bacon with more than enough for six people.  
'Although I'm making enough for everyone to have thirds, I will only be able to get a few bites!' He thought with a curled lip, 'I should show them what it's like to be hungry for once. I am able to control this power.'  
Once breakfast was finished and cleaned up, Vernon pulled him into the kitchen before he left.  
"This is the list of things you have to get, I want everything that is on here, and I don't care if you have to go to different stores, just get it. I also want the receipts and /exact/ change. Do you understand freak?" Vernon said with a snarl.  
"Yes sir," Harry replied.  
Vernon dropped the list and money on the ground and stepped on Harry's hand as he went to pick it up while passing through the door. He bit his tongue to keep from saying something that would cause Vernon to come back and do something worse. He quickly picked up the money and list and slipped out of the house and headed towards the library. He would check out any books on powers and anything that sounded close to his situation. He ended up checking three books out, one on telekinesis, one on telepathy and one on magic. He almost dismissed the magic one, but after considering how afraid the Dursleys were of even uttering the word, he ended up getting it. Now he had to buy some groceries and steal a notebook or two. He slipped his books in his rags for clothes and changed direction towards the dollar store. He stepped in and browsed the store. He passed through the school supplies aisle a couple of times. On the second and third pass, he grabbed two black notebooks. He quickly left and finally went to the grocery store. He managed to get everything there and headed home with the library books and notebooks hidden in his baggy clothes.  
He managed to get his things under the cot in his cupboard undetected. He completed his chores with almost no incident. The only notable thing that happened was when Dudley came outside while he was pulling weeds and stomped through the roses. He had yelled for Petunia and placed all the blame on Harry. Petunia dragged and pushed him to the cupboard for a week only to be let out to eat a piece of bread or two and to go to the bathroom. This suited him just fine as he had ample time to read his books. He decided to read the one on magic first. It would be the simplest and fastest to read. He came across some phrases that really stood out to him, such as: 'the only limitation to magic is the imagination itself' and 'magic is not evil or good, it is only what you do with it that matters' and finally, 'a lot of magic does not make you powerful, you are only powerful if you want to be'. The book also explained what magic was and that is cannot be harnessed, magic is will and might. It mentioned that magic was everywhere and those who could use it had a source where the magic could flow through. It was already within each person, and once you are able to find it and understand your own magic, it will become deeper, allowing you to use magic more easily. Harry wrote down all his bits of information and comparisons from what the book said to his own experiences. He was in the middle of signing his name when he frowned and thought about his name. Harry Potter. He learned that was his name when he first started school. His name, to him, was tainted. Everyone who used it used it against him. They associated Harry with freak. He didn't want to be associated as a freak, he was better than that. The Dursleys were the freaks. Why should he associate himself with them? He decided to keep Harry as a nickname and find something that people would shorten to Harry. He finally decided and finished signing his, new, name. He wasn't going to use it until he met someone like him. He finished the book after a few hours and wrote down some more notes before looking back at the notes on the magic power everyone who could use magic apparently had. He was very interested in this theory and even if what he had wasn't exactly magic this exercise would still give him better insight into his power. He paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side, listening to hear what time of day it was. If he heard them nastily eating, it was dinner, if it was quiet they were watching TV, and if it was loud complaining, they were getting dinner ready.  
They were eating. He would only have to wait a bit before they went off to watch TV and then they'd be too focused to notice if anything odd was happening. While he was waiting, he decided to get as prepared as he could; he didn't want any distractions. He pushed everything; which was just crayons and army men and those books to the side and put his cot in the middle. He was glad it was collapsible, it really came in handy. He got out his notes and started to read them again, looking for things he might have missed or things he needed to add on to. He did this until he heard them get up. He stuffed his books away while he awaited the inevitable bang. He wasn't able to eat, but he still has to clean up after them? His anger fueled his determination to learn about this power. He quickly slipped out of his cupboard at the sound of their bangs and kept his head down so they wouldn't see his expression of anger and disgust. They stupidly took it as submission and left him alone. No one said he couldn't act if need be. He went through the motion of cleaning the kitchen even though his mind was on his personal task ahead. He quickly finished and his aunt led him back to the cupboard and locked it after him. He waited until her footsteps faded into the living room and once he was sure she was gone, he waited a few more minutes before moving. He laid his notes open next to him and sat cross-legged, with his hands clasped lightly in his lap. He closed his eyes lightly and began to slow his breathing. He had to figure out how to clear his mind. He'd read of meditating before, but honestly never thought much of it. Though the notes gave him more than enough information on how to clear his mind, he had to focus on one thing and only that one thing until he was completely calm to move to the next step. He focused on his breathing. He took slow, deep breaths and slowly relaxed. He stopped unknowingly focusing on the Dursleys and lost focus on the rest of his surroundings as he continued breathing. His mind slowly cleared of all distractions until h was completely focused on his breathing. Once his mind was sufficiently cleared, he began to ‘feel’ for his power. He felt it thrumming quietly all throughout him. He started to grow excited and he focused on the feeling. He felt it grow in in intensity and he started to focus on its base location and started to bring it into his mind’s eye. He eventually saw it and grew too excited to hold his concentration. Just as he was eagerly reaching out to touch it, he suddenly blinked his eyes and looked around the cupboard. He wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t able to touch his power of magic as it was seeming to become more and more apparent. He had an actual smile on his face as he acknowledged his exhaustion. He figured he would have to do this exercise more often until he wasn’t so tired. He laid down and fell into a dreamless sleep, a small smile of accomplishment on his face.


End file.
